


The Next Time

by Ekokai



Series: Time [2]
Category: The Pretender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekokai/pseuds/Ekokai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You just can't keep a pyschopath down.  Jarod's plans are once again interrupted by Lyle, but this time could be the end for the Pretender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Time

Jarod grimaced as the jeeps transmission protested his driving by creating a horrible screeching noise as he shifted from fifth to second while making a sharp turn. He could feel the passenger side tires begin to lift off the ground and for one horrifying moment, he thought he was going to roll. As he completed the turn and the jeep settled down again, Jarod cursed at the sight in the rearview mirror. It had been a gamble and he had lost; the car was still behind him, apparently anticipating his impromptu detour and following him with little trouble. 

 

Twenty yards behind him, Miss Parker slowed as visibility dropped, the result of the Jeep kicking up dust on what the locals laughingly calling a road. 

"What are you doing?" Lyle demanded from the passenger seat. "Don't slow down!" 

Parker spared her brother a shriveling glance before returning her attention to the murky scene before her. 

"I'd like to be alive when we catch him," she snapped, her hands tightening on the wheel until her knuckles ached. "Not all of us are as accomplished at coming back from the dead as you are." 

Lyle smiled derisively, choosing to ignore that. His last brush with death at the hands of Jarod was now well known throughout the Centre. He’d had his heart set on revenge since he had opened his eyes in Renewal Wing. He was just about to ask her nicely to speed up again when the air suddenly cleared in front of them, revealing the red Jeep stopped sideways across the road. 

Parker swore and practically stood on the brake while jerking the wheel to the left. She caught a glimpse of Lyle bracing his hands on the dashboard as the car skidded on the dirt, coming to a shuddering stop alongside the Jeep. For a long moment, there was no sound except for the heavy, relieved breathing of the cars two occupants as another wave of dust settled around them. 

Lyle still had his hands on the dashboard and was resisting the urge to check to see if he still had a pulse when he heard the driver’s door open followed by his sisters voice. 

"I swear I'm going to kill him this time," she promised herself, or Lyle, or maybe even the universe. 

Before Lyle could respond that Jarod was his, she was gone. He reached for the door handle but his side of the car was now only inches from the Jeep. Shaking his head in an admiration of her driving skills that he would never admit to, Lyle clambered out over the driver’s seat and looked around. 

They had passed from rugged high desert into lush woodlands about ten miles back and Lyle sighed as he watched Parker disappearing into those woods, gun drawn and a fierce determination in every step. With another resigned sigh, he glanced down at his dress shoes, cursed Jarod, then followed his sister into the forest. 

 

Jarod pushed the brush back into place between a pair of fallen trees and quickly memorized the area. As soon as he was confident he had lost his pursuers, he planned to retrieve the newly hidden DSA's and continue on to Montana where he had already begun to lay the groundwork for his next pretend. Grabbing his pack and slinging it over one shoulder, Jarod stood and ran deeper into the trees, his mind racing. Lyle was supposed to be dead; again. Jarod was certain of that since he was the one who had killed him and left his body on the cell floor in the Centre. 

For the past two months Jarod had been having nightmares about what he’d done; nightmares he’d been unable to stop despite the effort he’d put in to convincing himself he’d had no choice. The problem was, he did have a choice. He could have done what Lyle wanted, survived it, and found another opportunity later, but he’d chosen to attack instead. His guilt was compounded by the brutal way in which he’d killed, or thought he’d killed, the man. He hadn’t been able to touch himself since that night. 

 

Parker stopped and leaned against a tree as she surveyed the ground around her. Jarod's tracks had been leading her steadily northward, but he had suddenly turned east. She was considering the possibility that he was doubling back when a noise made her swing around, her finger ready to squeeze the trigger. 

"Whoa!" Lyle screamed, skidding to a halt, hands raised in the air. "It's me." 

 

Twenty yards away, Jarod stopped when he heard Lyle yell; wondering which of them was actually following his tracks through the woods. He stood still, waiting to hear if there would be anymore shouts that would give away their location, but after a half minute he decided it was best not to wait. With his eyes still focused in the direction of his pursuers, Jarod took a step into a pile of leaves. He never had a chance to see what he stepped on, but in the split second it took to change his life, Jarod knew what he had done.

 

Parker swore and let her arm drop to her side, her thumb clicking the safety on again. 

"Were you TRYING to get me to shoot you again or would I have been able to tell my father it was an accident?" Parker demanded to know. 

Lyle brought his arms down and straightened his tie, an action that struck Parker as being ludicrous in this situation, but she was already intent on finding Jarod's trail and any comment she might have made was forgotten.

"I don't think our father would appreciate you shooting me...again," Lyle emphasized. He waited for a cutting response but quickly realized he wasn't going to get one. "So, which way did he go, Tonto?" 

Not getting an answer, Lyle shook his head and considered returning to the car, but the thought of letting Jarod escape when he was this close stopped him. He’d been hoping to find the man on his own so he could exact his revenge in private, but this was better than nothing; assuming they could catch him. He was about to suggest they backtrack to the last clear set of footprints when a gut-wrenching scream echoed through the forest, causing them both to jump. 

"What the hell was that?" Lyle wondered aloud, enjoying the fading sound. They looked at each other with the same thought. 

 

Jarod lay on the damp ground writhing in pain, unable to get a full breath into his lungs. His right leg was bleeding heavily, the skin ripped open about six inches above his ankle. He tried to sit up, to reach for it again, but he couldn't move the rest of his body without moving that leg. Bolts of white-hot pain shot up through his thigh, causing the muscles in his right side and back to spasm, further jostling the damaged limb. 

He had known as soon as he'd taken that step what he had done, but before the thought had finished forming, a steel-jaw trap had already ripped through skin and muscle. Jarod had heard himself scream, but it was as if he was listening to someone else. He never would have guessed that anything could cause that much pain so quickly. And, because the trap was still attached to his leg, it was the pain that kept on giving. 

 

Parker ran through the trees in the direction of the scream. Part of her was happy that something had apparently stopped Jarod, but another part of her dreaded seeing what caused the pretender to yell like that. Her mind was leafing through the possibilities when she broke through some brush and stumbled to a stop, Lyle almost slamming into her from behind. Looking past her, he was the first one to respond to the situation at hand. 

"Oh shit," he hissed. 

Racing over to the prone man he dropped to his knees and automatically reached for the trap. Jarod saw the hand moving toward him and his only thought was to stop it from touching him, knowing the agony it would cause. 

"N- no," he gasped, reaching for Lyle's hand. Before he could complete the move, his own hand was grabbed by Parker. 

"Let him get that off, Jarod," she told him firmly, her eyes fixed on his blood soaked pants. She could see the bone beneath the mutilated skin and fabric, the pointed steel teeth of the trap stained red. 

Lyle looked at the thick, rusty hinge at the base of the trap and quickly realized he was going to need something to pry it apart. The area was littered with fallen branches, but a plan was already forming in his warped mind. 

"Run back to the to the car and get something to pry this apart," he told Parker softly as he stood up. She stood with him, letting go of Jarod's hand as she did so. 

"Can't you just pull it apart with your hands?" she asked.

Lyle shook his head sharply. “That trap is so old I’m surprised the damn thing closed to begin with. The more I play around with it the worse it will be.”

He glanced away to hide the smile in his eyes as he thought about all the fun he could have if he could just get rid of his twin. 

“Why don’t you ‘run’ back to the car and get what you need?” Parker asked, just to be obstinate. 

Lyle kept his head turned while he thought fast. “I um….” He looked up at Parker and shrugged. “I’m lost,” he admitted, putting just the right tone in his voice. He watched her process the information quickly and come to the conclusion that he was an idiot. 

Casting a last glance at Jarod, Parker turned and rushed off in the direction of the car. 

Lyle waited until the sound of her footsteps faded before turning his attention to the pretender. He stood over the injured man with a smile on his face while he deliberately tugged on the loose knot of his tie. 

"I've dreamed about moments like this," he began, then stopped and looked pointedly at the trap. "Well, truthfully I never dreamed of anything quite this good," he shrugged, "but you get the picture." 

Jarod had stopped struggling once people stopped trying to touch his leg and now he was just laying at Lyle's feet, his only struggle was to stay conscious. 

Lyle pulled the tasteful gray silk tie from around his neck and gave it a hard look. It was his favorite, but it had to be sacrificed for the greater pleasure. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Lyle retrieved several sheets of folded paper, unfolded them, then crumpled them into a fist-sized ball. He estimated his sister was a quarter way to the car by now and he knew that didn't leave him much time. Pity. He was really going to enjoy this but half the pleasure would have been in hearing Jarod scream, but that couldn't be helped right now. 

He knelt down beside the prone man who's eyes were fixed on the tie in Lyle's hand. Lyle followed the gaze then smiled reassuringly. 

"Don't worry, Jarod. I'm not going to try to use this as a tourniquet." 

Jarod's relief was short-lived. Before he could react, Lyle forced the ball of paper into Jarod's mouth and secured it with the tie, creating a very effective gag. With his back facing Jarod's head, Lyle straddled the man’s chest, pinning his arms to the forest floor with his knees. The feel of the pretender struggling beneath him sent a jolt of pure pleasure straight to Lyle's groin. He could hear muffled protests from his new prisoner and estimated he had about ten minutes to have his fun. 

"This is just the beginning, Jarod," Lyle promised, leaning forward slightly. The movement had several well calculated effects. One, his crotch was now pressed against Jarod's belly and was being stimulated with every panicked breath. Two, his full weight was now pressing down on Jarod's arms, which Lyle could only hope was causing pain. And three, he was now in a perfect position to -- 

Jarod screamed into the gag and arched his neck, pressing the back of his head into the hard ground as the demon on his chest roughly poked at his broken leg with a short branch. 

"Did you say something?" Lyle asked without looking back. He was intent on seeing how far the branch could be inserted into the gaping wound, disappointed when it turned out to be just a scant inch. Jarod was bucking wildly under him and Lyle suddenly had another image race through his mind involving Jarod bucking for an entirely different reason. Seemingly with a mind of its own, his left hand dropped to the pretender's crotch and began rubbing him suggestively while he continued to poke at the still bleeding wound. 

It had only been a few minutes but Jarod had already screamed himself hoarse and the sides of his head were soaked with tears and sweat from his struggles. When he finally registered the groping hand on his crotch, Jarod knew he was in hell.   
Disappointed that Jarod wasn't getting off on the pain, and running out of time, Lyle slid from Jarod's body and sat beside him on the ground. He expected the pretender to immediately attempt to remove the gag, but as the thought occurred to him, he also realized Jarod's arms were probably numb from lack of circulation. As he watched Jarod struggle to remain conscious, visions of their last meeting danced through his head, ending with the degrading way Jarod had left him to be found by sweepers; unconscious, naked and covered in cum. He had planned many different acts of revenge, but none had begun like this. 

A distant snapping of a branch signaled the return of Miss Parker, and Lyle was shaken from his reverie and into action. Placing his hand over the gag, just for added insurance, he used his free hand to lift the trap and Jarod's broken leg up about 18 inches, then dropped it to the ground. Jarod's muffled scream was brief as he instantly lost consciousness. 

A minute later, Parker pushed her way into the clearing and stopped in her tracks. 

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, her eyes immediately going to Jarod's chest to make sure he was still breathing. 

Lyle looked up from where he had just tied the silk around Jarod's leg, just below his knee. 

"Poor guy passed out so I thought it was a good time to try to get the bleeding stopped," Lyle lied casually. He knew damn well his twin didn't believe him, but she had nothing to base that on since Jarod was in no position to argue. 

"We're in range of a cell tower," Parker informed him as she handed over the long metal handle to the tire jack she'd brought from the car trunk. "I used the car phone and called the Centre. A chopper from one of our satellite offices will be here in about 15 minutes." She watched Lyle use the jack handle to snap the trap free with what appeared to be very little effort. She was about to comment on that fact when she noticed the bulge Lyle's pants failed to conceal as he stood up.

She quickly averted her eyes and began speaking before he had a chance to ask her why she was suddenly jumpy.   
"The satellite office has connections with a medical facility nearby. We can get Jarod taken care of before we --" 

"No." 

Parker looked at her brother. 

"No?" 

"That's right. No. The chopper will take us back to the airport and then the jet will take us home. When he," Lyle gestured toward Jarod, "is safely underground again, then he can be treated." 

Parker felt her temper rising. She knew Lyle had good reason to hate Jarod, but risking the Centre's prize lab rat for revenge was out of the question. 

"He's lost blood and is still bleeding." 

"The tourniquet has it under control." 

"You can't leave that on all the way back to the Centre, Lyle. He'll lose the leg." 

"Your point?" Lyle asked, ice in his voice. 

Parker knew when she was fighting a losing battle, but as much as Jarod annoyed her, there was no way she was going to let him go through the rest of his life with a missing limb. 

"Okay," she conceded, trying to sound calm. "He doesn't get the leg taken care of until we get back to the Centre." 

Lyle smiled in victory, but it didn't last long. 

"But first we at least let someone stop the bleeding and pack the wound." 

Lyle also recognized when his sister couldn't be budged, and he grudgingly agreed. The important thing was that Jarod would soon be hundreds of feet below the Centre and, for the near future at least, would be unable to escape even if they left the doors wide open. He stood and stared down and the unconscious man, his hair damp and a slight redness at the corners of his mouth. 

"Oh, yes," Lyle thought. "You will be mine, and very soon."

**Author's Note:**

> Original publication date - 3/16/00  
> Disclaimer: The Pretender and its characters belong to NBC and MTM, but I suggest we pool our money and try to buy them :-)  
> This is a sequel to Better Luck Next Time but is not nearly as graphic.


End file.
